


Catch Me

by diemarysues



Series: Fall into My Life [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 18:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4490562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: <i>Quiet me</i> (one character trying to calm another down).<br/>Thorin and Bilbo speak just before their wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Me

**Author's Note:**

> This got too long for just a ficlet, sooo... new sequel.  
> Also! Indian!Thorin ftw.

“Bilbo? What’s happened? Are you alright?” Thorin put his hand on the doorknob but it didn’t budge. He kept trying. “Is this locked?”

“Obviously.” Bilbo’s voice was muffled but his sarcasm was not. He was alright, then, thank fuck. “Stop jerking the knob.”

The impulse to make the obvious joke was pipped by his worry. “What’s happened?” he asked again.

“Calm down, Thorin.”

“How am I supposed to do that? Are you hurt? Is that why you can’t unlock the door?” Thorin was back to running through all the possible situations on the other side of the door. He thumbed the high collar of his kurta. “I could go fetch Óin; did you break anything?”

“You’re jumping to conclusions. Ridiculous conclusions.”

“Bofur didn’t give me any details. Forgive me for having little to base my suppositions on.” His grip tightened on the brass. “You know it’s better to expect the worst, then –”

“Then anything after is a relief,” Bilbo finished. “I know.”

“Bofur inspires a lot of ‘worst expectations’, as you should also know. First hand, in fact.” Thorin could just about hear Bilbo’s scowl. “All he told me was that you needed me. What was I meant to think happened?”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong. I need… I need you to calm me down.”

“Open the door.”

“…Fine.” There was a click. “You can’t come in, though.”

“Why –” Thorin cut his question, already groaning. “Tradition. Right.”

“Both our families agreed.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Thorin, you can’t just say you didn’t do something you did.”

“I didn’t do it,” he insisted. He’d have remembered something like that. “My memory isn’t that bad.”

“It is when it suits you, apparently.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Is this calming you down?”

He almost didn’t hear Bilbo’s sigh. “No.” 

Before Thorin could say anything to this, the door opened. Bilbo’s fingers peeked through the 2 inch gap, and Thorin laced his own through them. The mehndi on Bilbo’s pale skin would fade in time but for now the intricate patterns were pleasingly suited to him. It wasn’t strictly traditional for the groom (either groom) to be so decorated, but since when did they adhere to tradition?

Well, except for this whole ‘can’t see your future spouse before the wedding’. Utter nonsense. 

Complaints about that could wait for later, though. “What is wrong, Bilbo?”

“I don’t know.” There was a soft thud; Bilbo resting his head against the door, prevented from falling forward since Thorin’s free hand was still on the knob. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Hmm. “Stage fright?”

“That’s you, darling.”

“Now that’s _definitely_ a lie.” Bilbo was quite aware of what his job was. He wasn’t a rock star on a literal stage but he had to deal with people on a daily basis; he’d not call meetings fun but he was able to hold the attention of the room and get his point across. Sometimes loudly. (Oftentimes loudly.)

Bilbo’s fingers tightened around his as he laughed. “You may be a big, assertive, dedicated, and relentless lover –”

Christ on a bike.

“– and you’re also a good CEO, but in front of my family you’re pretty much a mouse.”

“Once again, I disagree.” It wasn’t his fault that his first introduction to them was at their annual gathering, whereupon he found out that Bilbo was apparently related to two thirds of his home county. “Though I’d prefer if they approached me in packs of less than five.”

“Mouse.”

“Bunny.”

“Shut up.”

“You started it.” 

“Still not calming me down.”

Thorin squeezed Bilbo’s hand. “I thought our bickering would make things more normal.”

“You’re not normal,” was the sullen reply.

“As you say, dear one.” Fondness washed over him. “But I’m serious. It’s normal to be nervous, I’m also…” Huh. Thorin realised that he wasn’t anxious, not at all. “Well, okay, it turns out that I’m not but that doesn’t mean –”

“It’s not nerves. I think.”

“Then what? Did someone say something?” Thorin narrowed his eyes. “Your family?”

“Why does it have to be _my_ family?” Bilbo asked instead of answering the question. “Is this related to your mouse-ness?”

He ignored this. “Because all of my family _love_ you, more than they love me.” And though he often grumbled about this, he couldn’t blame them. Who wouldn’t love Bilbo? “But that’s not the point here.”

“No, I’ve not been offered insult by anyone, whether on my side or yours. Only Prim and Drogo have been here, and Hamfast stopped by, which was nice. Oh and I’ve decided to keep the house.”

“Thought it was going to be a gift?”

“Well I considered what we discussed and I guess your idea has merit.”

“Thank you,” Thorin said dryly.

“But I don’t have to formally gift it to anyone, anyway. It’s not like I’m going to charge rent.”

“You ought to if it’s someone you don’t know.”

“Given where I live that’s not going to be a problem. And besides, there’s not great need for money. I can mooch off you if there is.”

“You do that already.”

“Ah, but I’ll be legally obligated to after we – after today.”

The mild panic in Bilbo’s voice had returned and Thorin frowned, wracking his mind. He still didn’t know what’d happened. Maybe it was something small. "Did you lose a button?" He could remember the wedding preparations. "I can go look for it."

“Why would I ask you here if I’d lost a button? Not to say that I’d want to lose any, these brass acorns are lovely, but it’s not a dire emergency.”

“But still an emergency?” Thorin cleared his throat to cover his laugh, trying for seriousness. “But yes, I get what you mean; a _dire_ one would be you misplacing your handkerchiefs. Then the world had better watch out.”

Bilbo untangled his fingers from Thorin’s so he could demonstrate a very rude sign. 

“So _is_ it a wardrobe malfunction?”

“Your solution would just be me undressing, whatever the problem.”

Thorin snickered, resting his forehead against the door. “It’s a good solution.”

“Ha!”

“I’m being serious. Fits all occasions. Lost your buttons? Take the waistcoat off, replace it with another. Or just remove everything and go to bed. But only if I’m there.”

“That must wait after we’re m – after –” Bilbo’s breath hitched and then he fell silent.

Why did he keep – was Bilbo having trouble with…? Thorin licked his bottom lip. “Bilbo?”

“…yes?”

He wasn’t sure if he should ask what he did next but forged on: “You’re not having doubts… right?”

“Of course not!” Thorin shouldn’t have felt so relieved at the insult in Bilbo’s voice. “I _want_ to have you as my husband, and to be yours. I’d not have proposed otherwise.”

Bilbo’s fingers were curled around the edge of the door and Thorin touched them gently. “I shouldn’t have needed to confirm it but… I can’t think of any other reason you’d want me here before we get married.” When there was no reply to this, he quietly added, “I have no doubts about saying yes. Just to make sure you know that.” 

“I _do_ know that, I just. I guess I… wanted a reminder of why I’m doing what I’m going to do today.” He sighed. “Maybe it is really nerves. You didn’t really need to come, Thorin, I’m just being silly. You should go back, I’m sure Dís and Frerin are wondering where you’ve gone off to – hopefully Bofur hasn’t said anything to them – and I’ll be just fine. I –”

Oh, screw this. Thorin yanked the door properly open; he was prepared for Bilbo’s fall and stopped it, smiling a little at his loud squawk. 

“Remind you of how we met?”

Bilbo just huffed and twined his arms around Thorin’s neck.

Thorin took the moment to take in Bilbo, really take him in. He was dressed in a red jacket and a green waistcoat (the one with the brass buttons, as he’d mentioned) that contrasted with Thorin’s blues. He had a yellow handkerchief tucked into one waistcoat pocket and a watch in the other. His curls were only a little neater than they usually were, his nose was nice and round, his eyes sparkling, and he was beautiful. Just about perfect.

Bilbo’s expression was soft and fond and Thorin wanted to see it for the rest of his life.

“You know, we went through a lot of rehearsals before today,” – pretty much all were tedious – “but there’s a bit of the ceremony that we haven’t practiced.” Thorin watched Bilbo’s eyes crinkle with his smile and was ever thankful he’d fallen into Bilbo’s life. Soon they would stand in front of the important people in their lives and promise their lives to each other. Thorin would become a Baggins and he could hardly believe all of this was happening.

He was brought back to the now when Bilbo pushed a beaded braid behind his ear. “Care to tell me which part that is?”

“I think you know quite well.” 

Bilbo’s smile bubbled into a laugh. “Yes,” he said, his fingers stroking along Thorin’s cheek. “Yes, I do.”

Thorin leaned down, and they practiced.


End file.
